


Who Wants An Angel When You Have A Stiles?

by Len0306a



Category: Suicide Squad (2016), Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF Stiles, Castiels like a dad, Creature Stiles, Gabriels still a little shit, Get it?, Jokers a softie, Jokers real name is Jack, M/M, Magic Stiles, Multi, Stiles Is A Winchester, Stiles Left The Pack, Stiles-centric, This is mess, What is a timeline?, What is...updating?, Winged Stiles, ive never heard of one, just give it time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-10-21 04:07:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10677360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Len0306a/pseuds/Len0306a
Summary: Stiles summons a special angel for a horrible reason. Everyone has secrets, but some are just too fucked up to let slide.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> SUPRISE!!! I'll be updating WDLWES tonight, but I made this to hold you guys off ;) I know how much you love me~

Stiles paced around his room, stopping every once in awhile to check and make sure he knew what summoning circle he was using. Stiles, trying to find the Winchester's, decided to summon the next best thing. Castiel and Gabriel. They both had their own unique sigil, with their own unique materials. He hasn't seen his uncles in years, ever since Claudia died. They would visit every summer and take him on trips around the country. 

After Claudia died, Stiles had shut them out, trying to cope with the loss. He was only 12 when it happened, but it still hurt him too much too think about.

Once he knew he memorized the sigil's, he took a deep breath in and started gathering the supplies. He kept them hidden under his bed, in a rowan wood box. It wasn't hard to open, having only a small key lock. 

Once he opened it all of the contents spilled out. Castiel's circle required rowan tree ash, an angel blade, a fucking tie, and a feather. Gabriel's was simplistic, requiring candy, gold hair, a yellow feather, and a white rose. The circles were simple, having a bowl in the middle to light all of the ingredients on fire. 

Stiles couldn't do it in his house, even if his dad wasn't around to smell the flames. He only had a month before he couldn't keep the house, and had to make this quick.

He ran down to stairs, supplies in his arms, grabbing his car keys and his bat. The said bat was modified to fight mostly any supernatural creature; having wolfsbane, mountain ash, and salt in the paint. 

There was a button, if pressed, that would pop out spikes. The spikes were made with holy water, silver, steel, and pixies blood. The blood usually made any supernatural within a fifty-foot-radius to back off with just the smell. His bat was painted jet black, the handle iron, and the spikes were a almost maroon.

Once he was out the door, he got In his car, putting his supplies and bats in the passengers seat. He no longer had his jeep since he totaled it in a fight with some centaurs, and had replaced it with an Audi R8. It was expensive, but with the amount he made, it didn't worry him. He started the car, driving around to the preserve.

Since Derek's leave, no one went near there, bringing up too many memories. He stopped when the dirt road started to slim, hopping out and carrying his materials. It was almost midnight by now, and no one would notice the smoke. He made the summoning circles side by side, each with a bowl in the center. He threw the materials in each bowl, muttering Latin under his breath. First he summoned Castiel, then Gabriel. He just had to wait for them to show up now. 

He could hear the wind as he waited, freezing him to the bone. He had on a black shirt, a red hoodie, and black skinny jeans. That definitely wasn't before-winter-material.

He heard the sound of wings, and then there they were, in all their glory. He only had to ask them one thing, and then they could go back to saving the world. 

"Stiles! We've missed you, you little shit!" Gabriel said, summoning candy from thin air. Castiel stared at him for a moment before saying, "Your uncles wouldn't approve of this." Of course, Castiel knew what was happening before he even said anything. 

Stiles instantly said, "So you won't do it, then?" In a almost frighteningly calm demeanor. Gabriel looked shock, but Castiel spoke up. 

"If it's what you really want." He said with a sigh, sounding exasperated and clearly tired. "It is," Stiles said, "So do it." 

And with that, Castiel put a hand to his head, and the whole world went black.

********************

He woke up with a start, staring at the tree lines. He guessed Castiel didn't have the curtesy to drag his unconscious ass back to his house. He slowly stood up, wincing at the pain in his back and head. 

From what he can tell, Castiel did his job correctly. Now, to see what exactly he gave him. He stood up, taking the almost burnt bowls with him. He walked to his car, started it up, and went home. It was four in the morning from what his phone told him, and he didn't have much time before daylight. 

He finally pulled to a stop at his house, opening his door and getting out of the plush leather seats. He was wobbly on his legs, but managed to get into his house. It looked the same as when his dad died, and he planned to keep it that way before he moved out. 

He already started selling the furniture, and packing his room. All he needed was to get the balls and throw his dads possessions out.  
He stumbled down the hall, into his room.

He didn't pack away his full body mirror, so he could see himself clearly. He was impressed, but shocked. He didn't have the bags under his eyes anymore, and his skin was a healthy pale, not showing any of his veins. His hair looked soft to the touch, his eyes a bright purple, where as they used to be brown. 

What surprised him most was what Castiel had given him. Instead of one set, he had three sets of wings. He wasn't an normal angel, of course, but he now had grace and some angelic blood in him. 

Sam and Dean would be pissed if they found out. Hell, the whole McCall Pack would be terrified of him. Instead of panicking like he did when he was a teen, he went to do the thing he does best. 

After all, he now had to glamour himself and his scent so no one knew. 

He had a hellish day of reading ahead of him, as he piled six textbook-large magic books on his bed. He was not happy about how much work he had to put in to find her.


	2. Don't Be Stupid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles is losing himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I plan on upadating another chapter after this. I'm going to try to AT LEAST upload every week, but we'll see. Thank you some much for your support

Honestly, Stiles should have seen this coming. Even though his wings and scent are glamoured, they still bumped into things. Which brings him to his next problem,  _how is he supposed to drive his car?_ This is a  _big_ problem. He was busting staring at Roscoe, his Audi, with sadness. He really hated leaving his baby behind, but he had no choice. 

 

He walked to his garage, staring at the death machine. His mother was just as enteric as him, so she  _had_ to own a motorcycle. He couldn't stand the damned thing, but it was the only thing that  _wouldn't_ crush his precious wings. He did have a bike license, because he only drove the murder vehicle on his mothers anniversary. Of course, the anniversary of her death, which is two weeks away. Two days away from when he could find her. The bitch really needed to be put down, and this was the easiest way to do it. 

 

He realxed, running inside. He had to be careful of door frames, tables, and anything that could hit against his wings. He hated going home, since it reminded him of the moment he found out his father was dying. 

 

_He ran around the house, gathering anything he needed for pack night. He was going to stay over the rebuilt Hale house for the weekend. His bag was packed, including his favorite pair of iron-man pants, and boxer briefs. They were black, with gray lining around the top._

 

_He was grabbing his keys to leave when the house phone rang. Nobody called the house phone, unless the station needed to get it touch with him. His stomach dropped, but he walked to the phone. The caller ID was the station, and it only increased his dread. He knew he was being negative, so he tried to think positive. Maybe his dad forgot his lunch, or Tara stapled James' sleeve to the desk again. He took a deep breath, picking up the phone._

 

_"Hello?"_

 

_"Stiles!" It was Parrish, and he sounded panicked. The dread was back, full force._

 

_"What do you need?" Stiles asked. His voice was shaking._

 

_"I'm sorry Stiles- I can't- I couldn't- the guy was too fast- I didn't realize before-" Parrish was rambling, losing sight of what he was trying to say._

 

_"What happened, Jordan?" Stiles said. His voice was shaking and he sounded weak, so, so weak._

 

_The line went silent for a moment. Just a fraction before Parrish- Jordan started talking:_

 

_"There was an armed robbery at one of the stores. We got the man to come out, but we didn't see the pistol he had in his waistband. Before anyone could do anything, he shot John. We don't know where he was hit, but it looks like the robber at least hit a lung." Jordan said, sounding even more panicked, if that was possible._

 

_"I'm going down to the hospital, just tell me where."_

 

The memory always scares Stiles shitless. The only thing that stopped him from breaking down was what happened next. He could breathe after this, if made him furious. 

 

_After the call, he instantly called the pack. He needed to feel safe, needed to be reassured that everything will be aright. He dialed Scott while running to Roscoe, starting the engine._

 

_The ring...ring...ring... was deafing in his ears, driving him insane. The ringing stopped, replaced by Scott's voicemail._

 

_"Scott?" His voice was shaky, "Dad was shot. He's dying, I need you to answer." He ended the 'call', close to tears. He started calling the pack._

 

_First Derek, then Erica, Lydia, Boyd, Isaac, Liam, Corey, and then jackson. No one answered. He gave them all identical voicemails, each one less coherent than the last. His pack didn't answer him, while he was at his worst._

 

The memory always made him furious. He grabbed the keys, marching to the death machine. It was a 7 Yamaha YZF R1, all black. It was only built for speed. 

 

He swung his leg over the death contraption, staring it up. He always loved the noise as it purred to life, unlike Roscoe. He reeved the engine and then took off. He was going 90MPH but he couldn't care less. He couldn't care about anything, anymore. 

 

He sped to school, parking the bike. He was growing fond of the thing, even if he didn't want to admit it. He looked around. No one was at school, it was 5:01AM. He comes here to swim, to think. It helped him figure out how to take her down. He hated the women, the one who killed his mother. In two days, he was going to summon and kill her. Rowena was going to die if he could help it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did you like my spoiler? I plan on updating soon, I swear >_<


	3. NOT A CHAPTER

What do you guys think of Stiles dating someone? I perfer no Sterek, since there's enough of that. The only limit is I want it to be a guy. I will take OC's, characters from different TV shows, etc. please tell me in the comments!!


	4. Fucking Gotham

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During a tracking spell, Stiles has to go to Gotham City.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna try to keep this under 20 chapters, so some things may be a little rushed.

When the bell rang for first period, Stiles bolted to class. He hasn't seen the pack yet, but Scott and Erica both have first period with him. He slid into his seat in the back, next to the window. He wasn't mad persay, but he was bitter. If he didn't have school, he could've been finding Rowena. The little shit was hard to find, always moving. Yesterday she was in Oregon, but she fucking teleported to another country. 

 

The late bell rang, starting class. When if was ringing, Scott and Erica came in. Scott slid into the seat next to Stiles while Erica sat in front of him. The teacher started talking about the Civil War, but Stiles already knew about that. Scott was taking notes, sniffing the air. His head snapped towards Stiles, looking confused. 

 

"Were you in the woods? You smell like dirt." And wow Scotty, nice conversation starter. Stiles couldn't lie, duh, but he wasn't going to tell the truth. 

 

"Yeah, I saw someone I knew near the woods. They wanted to tell me a scary story." Stiles said sarcastically, giving Scott and shit eating grin. His friend rolled his eyes while Erica snickered. 

 

The day day went like that, every wolfy person he knew sniffing him. Isaac just cuddled up to him at lunch, saying he 'smelled nice'. Isaac was the puppy of the pack, after getting comfortable with everyone in the pack. 

 

After school, Erica stopped him in front of the his car. She looked soft, even if she was wearing black leather pants and a lace top. "Hey Batman, there's a comic-con in New Jersey. And guess what I got?" She said, sounding smug.

 

"AIDS." Stiles said in a flat tone, both of them laughing. She sneaked her arm around his, hooking them together.

 

"No, but it's basically a disease." She said smiling. She put her hands into her pockets, pulling out a ticket. A motherfucking comic-con ticket. She put it in his free hand, smiling.

 

"I know your mother's aniversary is coming up, so I wanted you to have fun. I know how you get, and I think she'd be proud to see you happy that day." Catwoman said with a shy smile. After everything that happened, Erica because sweet. She started acting kind, hugging everyone and smiling more. 

 

"Thanks Catwoman. You're my hero." He said, making a joke. She cackled, her red lipstick showing off her bright smile.  Stiles smiled too. 

 

"Bye, Batman." She said, waving and bounding off to Boyd. The burly man only nodded at Stiles before hoping into Derek's camaro. Derek was standing at the front door, next to Boyd. They all got in and drove off. Scott and Isaac were on Scott's dirt bike, right behind Derek's car.

 

Stile's hopped on his bike, reving the engine. He took off from the parking lot, going way past the speed limit. He made it to his house in record time, parking the bike in the drive way. 

 

He got into to kitchen, looking for the materials. He found the quartz crystal, twine, and a map. He tied the twine around the quartz, laying it on the map. (Anyone who gets this reference I love you)

"Inveniet." He said, speaking the dead language. He let the crystal circle around the map until it tugged to New Jersey. How convient. He smiled, pulling out his phone.

 

_To Catwoman: I'm gonna start packing for New Jersey. :D_

_From Catwoman: I'll tell the pack. Have fun! ;)_

_To Catwoman: Thanks <3_

_From Catwoman: Don't thank me, I stole Derek's money to buy the tickets ;)_

_To Catwoman: You are a menace._

 

 

He put his phone down, and started packing. He was probably going to be there for three days at most. He packed some shirts, skinny jeans, and shorts. He also packed a few weapons; knives, pistols, bullets, mountain ash, daggers, and anything he thought he'd need. 

 

He he grabbed his bag, grabbing his keys as he went. He got on the death contraption, stating the engine. He started a spell, just a portal. He didn't need to say anything, he just had to believe. 

 

He pulled out of the driveway, speeding down the road. Slowly the scenery changed to New Jersey, Gotham City. He pulled up to a red light, an almost metallic pink car pulled up behind him. It had lights underneath with a sun roof. He ignored it, until it switched lanes right next the him. The windows were tinted, but he could make out a man driving it. 

 

The car looked familiar, but he couldn't place where it was from. He stared sat it a moment before clicking into place, and  _damn, he was sitting next to the Joker._

 

He was basically fangirling, because it was the Joker goddammit. He wanted a picture. He should've been smart and ignore him, but Stiles wasn't know for thinking before doing.

 

He knocked on the window, holding his breath. The Jokers head turned towards him, cocking to the side. It reminded him of a wolf. 

 

The man rolled down his window, smiling crazily. "What do we have here?" The insane man purred.

 

That should've been a red flag, but Stiles. Did. Not. Care. 

 

"Hey dude! Can I get a picture with you?" He said, sounding excited. The Joker smiled wider, if that was even possible. 

 

"How cute." The mans tone was insane, but Stiles didn't notice. "Follow me." Said the crazied man. Stiles really should've turned back at that point. 

 

He didn't. 

 

The Joker sped past the red light, shocking Stiles. He reved his engine, speeding after the man. He was right behind his car, keeping a 'safe' distance in case he stopped. He followed the deranged man to a condo building. From the gorgeous graffiti on the walls, he guessed the Joker owned the whole thing. 

 

The bike and car screeched to a halt inside the underground parking lot. The insane man stepped out, the alligator trench coat sweeping across his feet. He was shirtless, which showed off his tattoos. 

 

Stiles hopped his off the bike. Only then did he realized that he trapped himself with a criminal, with him being the dumbass that he is. When he thought of the weapons he had, all strapped to him and inside his bag, he relaxed. 

 

"Thanks so much dude!" Stiles said, becoming relaxed. The man just smiled, showing off his silver grills. Stiles pulled out his phone, standing next to the man. 

 

He pulled his phones front camera up, throwing his arm around the criminal. He smiled, while the fruit loop growled. 

 

Once he he took the picture, he pocketed his phone. The Joker looked at him confused, points to him for showing emotions.

 

Said deranged man growled low in his throat. "Why isn't a pretty thing like you scared of me?" The Joker asked. Stiles looked at him, surprised that he said anything. 

 

"Cause I've dealt with things worse that you." Stiles replied with a shrug. The Joker took back his demented face, only letting a smirk show. "Then you haven't see what I could do to you."

 

The insane man spoke again, making Stiles shrug. "Give me your number and you could show me."

 

 _Holy fuckstick he just flirted with the joker he's gonna have a panic attack why the fuck does he do these things what in the fu-_ The Joker gave a curt nod, grabbing his phone out of his pocket. He was about to protest before the Joker started...typing his number in? 

 

He handed the phone back to the teen, raising his nonexistent eyebrow. Stiles was shocked, so he just smiled before getting on his bike. He drove away in a daze, letting his magic guide him to a motel. 

 

He he paid for his room, walking to...what room was he in? Oh, room 114. Cool. He walked to his room, unlocking the door. He plopped on the bed, falling asleep. He was too shocked to shower because how fucking stupid was he to flirt with the Joker?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you wanna see a specific interaction between characters, tell me! 
> 
> Amo te~


	5. How The 'War' Ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles should really consider his life choices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm uploading again! 
> 
> Amo Te~

Stiles jolted awake with a start, hissing from the pain. He totally forgot he had wings, plural, so he bent them in an odd angle when he fell asleep.

 

He rolled off his bed onto the floor, making sure he fell on his chest. His wings splayed out across the room, using up almost all the space. He shuffled them a bit to get out the kinks in his joints before settling again. He knew he had to get up, but comic-con was at two, and it was...twelve. He had no time.

 

He slowly made his way to the bathroom, having to squeeze his wings right into the crammed space. He managed to shower and brush his teeth before his wings clammed up. 

 

He really didn't want to go through the glamor spell that wore off, so he decided he was gonna make a costume out of it. He went to his bag, pulling out one of the  _million_ Cas left at his house. The angel was forgetful, never remembering what he was doing. The coat was one of the  _many_ things he left at his house. 

 

He grabbed a button up and a blue tie, getting dressed. He wore his normal black skinny jeans, but tucked the button up in. Because his wings were similar to angels, he had to cut to giant lines in the back of the trench coat. Once his got the damned thing on, he slipped on his shoes. 

 

He was excited, he really was, but he wasn't  _in the mood._ He always wanted to go to comic-con anyhow, so he just dealt with it. Since his wings were black, he could just say he wanted to be Gabriel but didn't have time. 

 

He walked out of the motel, throwing himself on the bike. He started it up, sitting there for a second. He was still kinda out of it, just going through the motions. He never really thought of anything until he went to call Catwoman. That's when he remembered he fucking  _flirted with the Joker and has the fucked up dudes number._

 

He changed the contact name, since the dude only put 'J'. He's decided on 'crazy pants' because it suited the fucker.

 

He was brought back to reality when he heard his engine, deciding against thinking about the Joker until later in the day. 

 

The plan didn't work.

 

**********

 

He walked around comic-con keeping his wings ridged. A few people asked for photos which he had to decline because  _hello_ his 'cosplay' was real. He suited himself with buying a few items for everyone, and no one needs to know he bought the whole Batman comics. 

 

Over 100+ people were dressed as the Joker  _which didn't help him forget about that ordeal._ Too many of the 'Jokers' asked for pictures with him, and he was having trouble keeping his cool. Too many people touched his wings, asking if they were real. He was about to yell at the people when he saw him.

 

The actual Joker was standing there, and no one noticed. They all thought it was a fucking cosplay, which, fair, he would've thought that too. That doesn't mean that it's fucking odd that no one even looked twice at the strange man. And if you know Stiles, he couldn't keep his mouth shut.

 

"Dude what the fuck are you doing here?" Stiles asked him, blushing when he stared. The dude just fucking purred, and he'd bet on his life the Joker  _purred not growled._ And that damned noise made him blush harder, and the asshole smirked. 

 

The Joker walked a few steps foward getting in Stiles personal space. Stiles was going to say something before the dude snatched his phone out of his back pocket.  _Wow, this is fucking familiar._

 

The Joker shook the phone in front of Stiles' face without a care. He got confused for a moment before realizing,  _the Joker wanted Stiles to fucking text him._

 

Stiles took the phone out of the mans grasp, the Joker growling at him for his efforts.

 

"Hush." Stiles said. He opened up the Jokers contact, sending a plain and simple 'hey'. 

 

The Joker jumped when his phone ringed before going to grab it. And when he pulled it out, Stiles had to stifle a laugh.  _He had a purple bedazzled phone._ Inside the purple jewels was a green 'J'. Stiles managed to hide his smile. Barely.

 

The Jokers face lit up when he saw the text, and Stiles really shouldn't have thought that was cute. He swears he's losing his mind. Jokers phone dinged again, and he frowned. 

 

"Dude, what's wrong?" Stiles asked him. The Joker showed him the text.

 

_Theres a girl named Rowena her to see you mister J. Come home~_

 

From the HQ at the top of the screen, he had guessed it was Harley Quinn. Which,  _cool,_ but Stiles wanted to spend more time with the loon. And he'd also get to kill Rowena, which is just a big ol' plus.

 

The Joker made a pained sound before grabbing his arm. He tugged Stiles along with him, the 'bodyguards' that he didn't see before following. 

 

"Woah dude, cool it with the pulling, fagile merchand-" He stopped when Joker held him against his side, stopping at the pinkish-purple car. Stiles gaped at it while the Joker unlocked the doors, pushing him towards the seat. 

 

Stiles, at that moment, decided to 'go with the flow'. 

 

His wings were curled behind his back, and he had to move the seat far back to have enough room to sit down. 

 

"Um, I kinda need my bike?" Stiles said, in more of a question than an answer. The Joker grunted before tapping one of his...goons? 

 

"Grab the pretty boys bike." The deranged man said, before getting in his car. The man raced off, coming back moments later with said bike.

 

"Lets go." The Joker said, before peeling off from the parking lot, heading towards the loft. Stiles didn't question it, but he didn't shut his phone off in case. 

 

They arrived five minutes later, screeching to a stop. Everyone got out of the car, and Stiles followed suit. He was getting anxious, he wanted to meet Rowena... _now._

 

He walked with the criminals, creating a check list.

 

dagger. Check. 

Pistol. Check. 

Salt. Check. 

Holy water. Check. 

Throwing knives. Check. 

 

What? He didn't know when he was gonna meet the witch. 

 

They walked into a large living room, two women drinking coffee next to each other. From the bleach blonde hair and blue and red tips, you could tell it was Harley. The woman next to her, with red hair, was the bitch herself. Rowena. 

 

Even though Stiles instinct was to wrap his hands around her neck, he wanted to know why she killed his mother. 

 

He he walked in front of the Joker and his crew, going around the couch to face her. She almost look shocked st seeing Stiles, before smiling. 

 

"Hello mieczyław." She said, smiling. Stiles sneered.

 

"Don't call me that." The spark said in disgust. Rowena nodded her head before looking thoughtful. 

 

"Should I call you angel then? Since you have those... _things?_ " Disgust was evident in her voice, making Stiles pissed. He knew if he killed her, someone would bring her back. They always come back. Sometimes. So he chose the next best thing. 

 

"Oh Crowley?" Stiles said with a smile. He knew he had her by the pale look on her face. She was about to talk before Crowley appeared with smugness radiating off of him. 

 

"I apologize mieczy- Stiles." Crowley said, trying to rile him up. He wasn't going to fall for it. 

 

"I will be taking her home with me and giving her a stern talking to." The King Of Hell said sarcastically with a grin. 

 

"Yeah yeah, shoo." Stiles said, making a shooing motion with his hands. Crowley having him a wolffish grin before disappearing into smoke.  _Drama queen._

 

"I like this one!" Harley said with a mad laugh. Everyone looked slightly confused, and Stiles was extremely tired. While the whole situation was going on, Stiles looked through Rowena's memories. Rowena meant to curse someone else with the Dementia spell, and it hit his mother. After that, Rowena didn't do magic for a few decades. She regetted killing his mother. 

 

Stiles still hated her, but she just made him sick everytime he saw her. It was better to forget everything about the woman. 

 

Now he he had to explain to the Joker what the fuck just happened. The explanation lasted about all night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few more chapters till the end :')))) I may elongate it a bit, but it will end around ten chapters. After all, Stiles still has to get with the Joker.


	6. Not Forgiven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles really doesn't know how his life ended up this screwed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HAVENT UPDATED THIS IN AWHILE BUT IM SO SORRY I WAS GETTING READY FOR HIGH SCHOOL AND HAD SUMMER PROJECTS AND HAD TO FIND OUT HOW TO FUNCTION. I also continuously worked on my Who Doesn't Love World-Ending Secrets work, that you should totally check out. 
> 
> Anyways if I don't update, which I plan to do every Saturday (for one work), you can come to my Tumblr, Len0306a, and yell at me XD. On that note, I'm taking prompts there too! So you can be updated on why I didn't update, what's going on with my story, and you can help me chose an ending!

* * *

After explaining, Stiles left. Went back to the motel and had to text crazy pants and let him know  _he got 'home' safely._ What type of criminal does that? Seriously, he's killed people and burnt down entire buildings to make a point. Stiles was completely confused on how to feel. Like, this dude is a murderer and goes batshit insane from time to time. On the other hand, the Joker he's met worries about him. Tells him to text him and wants him safe. This was too confusing for Stiles to handle. 

 

He walked up to the bed, barely staying awake for a few minutes before dozing off. He didn't fully fall asleep, but he was close to it. He couldn't sleep, but he could relax on the bed. He had a day to go back to Beacon Hills, and he had no idea what he was going to do. 

 

Does he stay with the Joker? Does he leave with the Joker? Does he leave without the Joker?

 

His brain was jumbling with thoughts of Joker this Joker that, that he barely heard the knock on his door. Once the second knocking started, Stiles heard. 

 

He doesn't know who would be over at his motel, so he stayed on guard. He grabbed two knives, a gun, and some mountain ash. 

 

Carefully walking to the door, he check the peephole. Scott. Scott was standing outside ringing his hands together like he was nervous. Stiles opened the door, still equipped with weapons. 

 

"What are you doing her Scott?" The door only opened a crack, and Stiles wouldn't let Scott see his wings. 

 

"He bro!" Scott said, letting out a nervous laugh, "Can i come in?" Stiles nodded along with his words, "Sure dude, one second."

 

He closed the door, quickly putting on a glamour. Once he knew Scott wouldn't be able to see his wings, he opened the door. After allowing Scott inside, he sat on the bed. 

 

"What brings you to New Jersey?"

 

Silence. Scott shuffled his feet, and then pulled out his phone. "One second." Scott said, scrolling through Instagram. After he found the picture, he showed it to Stiles. 

 

It was a as a picture of Stiles with the Joker, his wings on full display. "Why do you have wings?"

 

Stiles let out a nervosu laugh. "It was my cosplay for con." It wasn't a lie. He cosplayed Castiel, which meant the wings were, technically, part of his cosplay. 

 

"Can I see the wings?"

 

Stiles heart dropped. He didn't know how to respond, just staring out Scott. He never answered, the only reason he didn't was because he heard a knock. At his window. 

 

He went over to it, holding up his pointer finger to tell Scott to wait. Once reaching the small, dirty window he looked outside. The Joker, with no one else, was standing there. He quickly unlocked the window, staring at disbelief at the mad man. 

 

"What are you doing here?" Stiles hissed between clenched teeth. The Joker looked shocked at his rude tone, but shrugged. 

 

"Came to see you, pretty boy." Stiles heart melted a little at his voice, the normal one. Not the manic, growling voice, but the sweet honey voice. Stiles smiled slightly before sighing. "My friends over right now." Joker looked expectantly at him, like that meant anything. 

 

"Hey bro? Who you talking to?" Stiles froze before turning to his friend. "Ahhh, he's a dude I met here."

 

Stiles looked at the Joker, checking him out. He was in a maroon button up and black skinny jeans, and had not grills. He must have some make up on, since you couldn't see the tattoo's on his face. 

 

"Wanna come in?" The Joker looked at Stiles like a hopeful puppy, and that's not fair. He's meant to be a psychotic criminal, not a fucking cute dude. 

 

"Come to my door and I'll let you in." The Joker nodded at his words, walking around the building to the door. 

 

"That's my friend. We've met a few times so I gave him my number." Scott looked like a lost puppy, but he had a small smile. "So I'll get to meet him?" Stiles nodded, not trusting himself to say too much. He couldn't out the Joker, but he didn't know why. He should tell Scott about the deranged man and leave with Scott, before things got messy. 

 

He kept his mouth shut. He waited for the knock, the one knock. He only knock once...which is kinda weird. 

 

Stiles walked to the door, letting the man in. He instantly went to sit on his bed, not even acknowledging Scott. Stiles watched him silently walk, his feet not even making a thud. The Joker nodded to Stiles once he sat down, giving him a small smile. Scott looked nervous but didn't say anything, giving an uncomfortable smile. 

 

"What's your name?" Scott asked Joker. The man looked shocked that Scott talked to him, but recovered after a minute. "Jack." 

 

Stiles just stared. Was his name actually Jack, or was it a fake name? 

 

"Do you have a last name?"

 

"Napier." 

 

Stiles thoght back back to the comics and movies, remembering the creator making a tweet about Jack Napier. Oh shit. 

 

"Welll Scotty, what are you here for?" Stiles said, as he walked to the bed, settling down next to the Joker. The crazied man scooted closer, touching from shoulder to knee. Usually Stiles would move, but he relaxed into the touch. He inconspicuously leaned onto the Joker- Jack- and stared. 

 

"Um- well- I just- I just wanted to know when you're coming home?" Stiles didn't know how to respond. He wanted to go home, he really did, but he didn't want to leave the Joker. He..felt something. He didn't know what, but he wanted to help the Joker, make him realize how nice it is to be normal. Have a house, a family, a husband- no. A wife. 

 

Stiles sat up straighter, making Jack frown. Scott noticed but didn't say anything. 

 

"In a few days, maybe?" Jack's hand went to his back, gripping tight. Scott nodded, staring at the hand that went behind Stiles' back. 

 

"Well, I'm just gonna- yeah." Stiles noddded, watching as Scott left without a goodbye. He waited a few minutes, hearing the bike outside pull out. 

 

"Is your real name Jack Napier?"

 

"Yes."

 

"Do you want to have a normal life?"

 

"...yes." The answer was small, making Stiles look at Jack. 

 

"Then why did you do everything?" Everything as in kill, steal, and burn. 

 

"To show nothing changes." (NOTE: I know he doesn't do that for this reason but just- let me believe.)

 

"I can't forgive you. I know not now, but someday. I've killed too, you know." Jack looked at Stiles with such a hopeful expression, and it made him look sane. He was actually looking happy. 

 

"I'm leaving for my home town. Beacon Hills. If you can stop the criminal act, you can come. There's only one condition: oh can't hurt anyone. Can't commit crimes. You have to be Jack, not the Jocker."

 

The Joker looked unsure. "I'll try."

 

"You have two days. You can show up here at exactly 12PM and come with me. Or, you can stay in Gotham, and wreck havoc. It's your choice." 

 

Jack nodded, and stood up. He walked to the door, and almost walked out. Last second, he looked back. "Thank you, Stiles."

 

With that he left, and Stiles got ready to leave. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE PLOT THICKENS!!! 
> 
> No it doesn't. 
> 
> Ight so I'm thinking about doing a Sterek/Heathers moment except JD doesn't blow up the school. 
> 
> Have any ideas if Derek should be JD or Veronica, and if Stiles should be JD or Veronica.   
> Anyways,come to my Tumblr, where you can ask me for a fucking prompt!!! I need prompts people!!!! Give me some damn prompts!!!!


	7. Almost There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles let the Joker- Jack- decide on if he wants to come with him. What will the Joker choose?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please follow my tumblr, Len0306a! I will notify you why I haven't updated/may give you a sneak peak on the story!  
> ALSO ALSO ALSO ALSO  
> they reason I haven’t been updating is because of family problems, which I turned into a story on my Tumblr. After this is uploaded, I’m going to put my story, the reason I haven’t updated, on my tumblr. It’s kinda terrible but if you do check it out please understand why it has hit me so hard. I have changed my friends names to something else, so they’re identities won’t be revealed. My Tumblr is Len0306a.   
> Thank you for your patience.

Stiles was packed and ready to go, having one day to relax. He didn't know what to do, but he was going to make use of it. He had driven around town, constantly looking at shops and billboards. Honestly, Gotham wasn't as edgy as everyone thought it was. 

 

He had barely seen the small magic shop, just noticing it when he hit a red light. He could feel the power radiating off the damned shop, and it sparked his curiosity. He had excitedly made his way back to the motel, grabbing a knife in case some shit went down. After strapping some to his wrist, thighs, and waist he set off. He knew he was being over dramatic, but honestly? He deserves to over the top. 

 

He parked his bike next to the parking meter, using magic so it wil never run out of time. He had walked through the isles, grabbing a box of protection stones. They had sigils on the back, and responded to touch. His touch, specifically, made them glow a bright white. He walked to the counter, seeing a hunk of a man ring him up. 

 

He felt unnerved, so he let his spark search. He poked and prodded at the guys aura, seeing almost a chaotic gold around him. So, a wolf. Nice.

 

He let his eyes glow green, making the wolves eyes flash gold in response.

 

"Thanks dude," Stiles said, grabbing his purchase. "You should really work on control. You look like a fucking anger tornado." The wolf gave him an unimpressed look before going back to the counter. Welp, he's probably not going back here anytime soon. Or ever. Yeah, he's never coming back.

 

"Suit yourself," Stiles said, walking through the mahogany doors. He basically pranced back to his bike, thinking of where to put the stones. Probably around the pack house, or his father’s. He probably should’ve bought another box for both, but now he refuses to walk back into that store. 

 

He went to his bike, Revving The winging before taking off. He just had to be the douche with the expensive ass bike showing off, at least once. 

 

When he made his way back to the motel, Jack was there. He was in a T-Shirt and jeans, looking normal. He had brown hair, which was brushed over his forehead hiding the tattoo. Sitting next to him was...five suit cases? Why does he have that much shit? Stiles swears he’s going to strangle the man for being that much work. 

 

“You’ve decided to come with me?” Stiles said, in a casual tone. Even if he sounded casual he was freaking the fuck out because damn he looked...normal. Normal as in, Stiles shouldn’t even be near him normal. 

 

“Yeah.” Jack said, smiling. Actually goddamn smiling like what even is Stiles’ life. He took a deep breath before saying, “you packed this much shit?” Jack looked shy before shrugging and looking down. 

 

Why is he acting so normal? Stiles nodded, walking up to the...normal(?) man. He grabbed two of the suit cases, bring them to the motel room. He set them on the bed, grabbing some quartz. He didn’t pay attention to Jack putting the rest of the suit cases on top, concentrating on his belief. 

 

A moment later, a portal opened up. It showed the pack house, with Scott standing on the other side. 

 

“I’m going to give you my shit to take through, okay?” Scott nodded to his words, and Stiles started handing him their junk. Once finished, he looking behind the portal, where Jack was awkwardly standing. 

 

“Scotty, I brought a friend with me. He’s coming through too.” With that, he pushed the portal back, going through the walls into the back alley. He grabbed Jack’s hand, tugging him along to his bike. 

 

He jumped on, patting the spot behind him for Jack. Once the man sat down behind him, he felt arms grab around his waist and a head on his shoulder. 

 

He started the bike up, driving through a narrow alley to the one behind the motel, and sped up. 

 

The portal’s location has changed, going behind the Hale house into the backyard. 

 

They skidded through the portal, blowing chucks of grass from the preserve. Once he managed to stop the bike, he looked around. The whole pack was there, including Derek. 

 

Wow, guess this must’ve been some big shit for Derek to show up. 

 

They both stepped off the bike, Stiles a-bit wearily. Derek opened his mouth to speak, and Stiles held his breath. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking around for my update.


	8. Everything Burns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so Stiles leaving the Pack is going to happen in the next chapter, but it’s not something hurtful. This isn’t meant to be too agnsty, just something to let off creative steam.

It was like drowning, watching Derek lead him into the rebuilt pack house alone. Drowning in fear becuase his spark was fighting to keep Jack, make him Pack, make him his. The feeling wasn’t there before, but now that he’s so close to losing Jack, his spark is yelling at him to protect. Jack wasn’t pack, but he was something...else. Something Stiles wasn’t sure he wanted to go into, figure out it was just another pathetic thing about his spark.

 

His spark, his magic, was powerful, sure, but it wasn’t tame. It was like the ‘wolves connection to the spirit inside them, wanting things on its own. Stiles spark almost spoke to him, claiming people as theirs and making enemies without meeting them. It was insanity to see his spark act so...crazy about another person. The idea was ludicrous, having someone like an anchor for his magic. Sure, Magic was meant to have something to keep it stable, but a person? You could easily lose a person, Your mind, your spark with them.

 

It was brutal to heat Derek call Jack an arson, say that he was a monster. Stiles knew Jack may have been, could still be, a monster. He could want to burn the whole town to the ground, watch the pack’s skin sizzle and pop with fire. Stiles was dizzy from Derek’s words, “How do we know we can trust them?”

 

The words were sound astounding, remarkable in their own right. It conveyed many things, loudly speaking of death and broken loyalties. Stiles understood that, he really fucking did. Seeing someone he loved kill a family memeber, a friend, was so barbaric to him. To be able to cut ties with someone so caring, someone who stayed by your side til the brutal end, was almost poetic. If it was written by Edgar Allen Poe.

 

They fought, then. Shrill voices filling up empty space, getting louder with each accusation and breath. Soon, it all come down to one final question. “Who is Jack?”

 

The answer was simplistic, and could be said in so many ways. The deranged man. The Joker. A serial killer. “A villain.” Was Stiles’ final answer. The silence was deafening, almost shrill with its nothingness.

 

“And you want me to invite him into our house, our territory.” Was Derek’s seething reply.

 

”Yes.”

 

Derek deflated, looking so defeated by Stiles’ answer. “I will take full responsibility for his wrong-doings.”

 

The words were a ritual of sorts. They meant that if Jack were to hurt anyone, Pack or civilian, Stiles will take the punishment. He would take death or banishment, if it ever came to that.

 

”I accept you’re sacrifice.” The words echoed throughout the preserve, letting the other ‘wolves know what would happen if Jack were to become deadly.

 

It was almost sad, knowing Stiles could be throwing his life away for a murderer; who said Stiles wasn’t one?

 

 

 

Stiles watched as the pack all started talking, ignoring Jack in favor of starting an argument with Stiles. All of the questions were accusations, none wanting to know what, just why. “What are you doing?” And Stiles’ favorite, “Do you know how dangerous this is?” Like he hasn’t researched Pack Politics and knew almost everything there is to know about how Packs function. Really, Stiles wasn’t an idiot, he was just reckless. He trusted too much, but maybe this time, his trust won’t be broken. 

 

After being bombared with questions, Stiles finally going suck of everyone’s yapping. “Can Jack stay here, or do we need to rent out an apartment?” 

 

Everyone froze, looking almost aghast that Stiles would ask that question. Derek remained calm, sitting on the porch steps, never intervening but never giving his opinion. 

 

“If Stiles believes he’s trustworthy, we can let him stay. It all depends on Stiles’ opinion.” Derek said, never giving the pack a chance to start another battle by walking inside. 

 

“He’s staying.” Stiles said finality, grabbing Jack and their bags and hauling them inside. They had enough room for another pack to stay, Incase of alliances, but Stiles hauled Jack into his room. Once the doors were closed, Stiles set everything on the bed, looking at Jack with a raised eyebrow. 

 

“Do you want to stay in my room, or get your own?” It took Jack a moment to answer Stiles’ question, looking around the room with curiosity and vigilance. Stiles knew Jack was looking for cameras, something to show he wasn’t trusted, but found nothing. Stiles saw Jack’s shoulders relax, his stance going slack, before answering, “I’ll stay here.” 

 

 

 

It was okay at first. Everyone slowly adapted, bringing Jack into their ragtag group of friends. Everyone was always watching him, at first, and now everyone was relaxed around him. Boyd and Jack got alone the most, both brooding in silence on the couch. It was like they were telepathic, Boyd grabbing them drinks at random times, and Jack changing the channel or grabbing them books that they both liked. Jack mostly stayed with Stiles, though, always randomly grabbing Stiles’ hand or pulling on his sleeve. It was growing into something, Stiles’ spark always alert when Jack came into the room. 

 

“Stiles, Jack has been proven trustworthy. We thank you for your sacrifice.” Derek said in the kitchen at 8AM, making toast. 

 

“Thank you, Alpha.” Stiles said, reciting old text, thousands of years old. The house felt less tense after that, everyone realizing that Jack was here to stay. Suddenly there were movie nights, pack outings, and cooking together. It al fell apart a few days later.

 

Jack was cooking, trying to make a polish recipe Stiles had showed him, when smoke filled the room. Jack had panic, taking the flaming casserole dish out of the oven and dumping it into the sink. Everyone came down, alarmed by the smoke, trying to find out what happened. They fire grew, scorching the sink and the marble counters, before Boyd sprayed the area with water. 

 

The counters were ruins, the sink melted and mangled, the wood cabinets burnt to ashes. Derek just watched, silently, and grabbed Stiles. He pulled Stiles to the study, forcing him to sit down. The smell of fire was suffocating to the ‘wolves, filing the air with ashes and fire.

 

They didn’t speak, just stared at each other. They heard yelling, and the sound of more water, signaling they didn’t full put out the fire. The smell of burnt snacks, pasta, and anything in the cabinets wafted through the house. 

 

“Everything burns. So do ‘wolves.” Stiles could hear the tremor in Derek’s voice, could see Derek’s hand shanking with terror. 

 

“Jack didn’t mean to start the fire, Derek. He just burnt some food.” Stiles said, trying to be rational. He didn’t want to make Derek’s fear invalid, because everyone knows what would’ve happened if they were asleep. If they didn’t smell the smoke fast enough. 

 

“I don’t think...I-I just think Jack should leave for awhile.” Derek said, trying to keep his voice strong but failing. 

 

“Okay.” Stiles said, knowing Derek needed this. The pack needed this. Cora and Derek couldn’t stand fire, and Jack being around would make it worse. 

 

“I’ll help him find a place-“ Stiles started, but was interrupted, “He can take my old apartment. It still has a few months of rent left.” Derek said, trying to find an in between. 

 

“Okay.” Stiles said again, not fighting. If Jack was a danger to the pack, he would have to move out. Although, if he had to leave Beacon Hills, Stiles would go with him. 

 

 It took a week to get Jack’s minimal amount of things in the apartment. Said apartment was already furnished, with basic supplies, and no food. 

 

 

 

The pack visited him everyday, Derek coming twice. Cora never came. They all tried to make Jack and Derek feel better, telling them that it’s not their faults. Neither could’ve stopped what happened. 

 

It it took three months before Jack was allowed to come back to the Hale house. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://len0306a.tumblr.com/
> 
> You guys I don’t know if the link worked so I’m probably going to be ‘updating’ this chapter a lot.  
> Anyways I don’t know how to attach a link to words so fuck it :’))) 
> 
> I need prompts so hmu!!!


	9. The Final Run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know how Stiles had wings? I think the pack should secretly know, but not say anything. So I decided that was how it was gonna go.

Everything went back to normal, everyone laughing and joking and being happy. Everyone had someone, and Stiles had...Jack. Jack, loyal, reckless, almost fully sane Jack.

 

Stiles didn’t know what that meant, but he was happier than he’s ever been. The Nogitsune nightmares are gone in the wind, replaced by warm, lazy Sunday evenings with Jack and the Pack. [why did that have to rhyme?] Derek got better about fire, managing to become friends with Jack again. They laughed and smiled together, giving light hearted jabs and pats on the back. 

 

Jack wasn’t the Joker anymore, not really. He was still reckless, but in a more caring way. He’d put himself in danger so he could protect the pack, not destroy the world. He fought because he had started to care about the Pack, not because he liked the feeling of blood seeping into his pores. Not because he loved the sight of people’s eyes glazing over with death and desperation. 

 

Stiles knew Jack was happy here, but he could tell the Jack wanted to move around. Jack wanted to see someone, more specifically something, and was almost desperate to see it. Wanted it so bad he’d forget what he was doing in place of staring at nothing, a lost look in his eyes.

 

Stiles is a big fan of ignoring the problem until it goes away, but this problem won’t. This will just keep gnawing at Jack until he finally gave in, and no one knew how to help. They tried taking him around town, moving towards the edges of Beacon County, before they gave up. Nothing seemed to make him fully happy. 

 

Stiles cornered Jack in their room, where Jack kept away his nightmares and vice versa. This was their safe place, of sorts. Every problem wasn’t a problem when they were here, together. When it was just them, tangled under their sheets in soft pajamas and nerdy glasses. Stiles knew that if he asked Jack about it anywhere else, Jack would dodge the question like bullets. Would avoid Stiles until he was too desperate and scared to ask for help. 

 

Stiles slowly led Jack to their room, keeping a constant chatter that always made Jack relax. Even though Stiles didn’t want to corner him, Stiles knew there was no way around it. If they didn’t face this now, what would happen? Would Jack leave them? Or would he stay and become miserable with every passing second? So he got Jack to sit on their sofa, turning around to close the door and stay by it. He knew Jack would bolt if he wasn’t standing by the door, blocking Jack’s only exit. 

 

“What’s wrong?” Stiles asked, trying to get Jack to telll Stiles himself instead of forcing it out of the poor man. Jack had gone tense, looking at him feet. He would speak for a moment, too worried about what to say or how to escape. 

 

“What’s the definition of wrong?” Stiles heard Jack say and really, Stiles couldn’t help himself. Stiles laughed, a fully body shake, with a rich, deep tone. He remembered asking his father the same thing about lying. That was years ago, tainted with bad memories and dead bodies, but now it was almost fond. 

 

“You know what I meant. I know you’re not fully happy here, and we won’t make you stay if you don’t want to.” Stiles said kindly, trying to get Jack to open up. Trying to help Jack understand he was safe. Stiles knew it worked when Jack relaxed, his body almost collapsing on the couch. 

 

“I just...miss them. The Penguin, The Riddler, and just...everyone. I know I’m not how I used to be, but they were my friends, in an odd sort of way. Now that I’m Jack, I care about them. I want to make sure they’re okay.” Jack let out in a rush, stumbling over words, because Stiles knew Jack wasn’t used to being worried. Stiles knew Jack didn’t care about anything when he was the Joker, just taking down the Bat. That was the Joker’s only concern, and now the the Joker was Jack, he understood what it was to care. That, that feeling, was terrified to the man who didn’t even care about himself. 

 

“But,” Jack continued, “i don't want to leave you, leave this family that I have.” Jack said that quietly, pretending he hadn’t said anything. 

 

“Why don’t we pay a visit to them, then? You know where they all are, and I could come with you for moral support. Of course, they may not be happy with your change, but maybe they might want to see you again.” Stiles said, and that’s what they did. 

 

They talked with the pack, pulling protection wards out of their asses to keep them safe, and Stiles and Jack left for awhile. They went everywhere, sent post cards, and talked. Some of Jack’s old friends were almost disappointed in him, but it never ended in blood. It ended in tears and laughs and convincing eachother to communicate somehow. 

 

They made sure to visit Harleen, convinced her to come to Beacon Hills and settle down, make friends, start a family. She still loved the Joker, but she knew that man died a year ago.

 

They traveled for years, but they always came back. The always made sure to visit Beacon, even if it was only for a few months before setting off again. They hung out with the pack, bought a house, the whole nine yards. They never left eachother, even if they did leave behind old friends and foes.  

 

They helped Dean and Sam with their hunts, stopped and visited Crowley, and said hello to Gabe, Cas, and Chuck. 

 

No one truely left Beacon Hills, because you couldn’t. Once you where there, it was it. They always came back, helped healed the Nematon, and cooked with the pack. Everything was okay, and everyone was safe. For the first time in Stiles’ life, he felt safe with Jack and Beacon Hills. 

 

Slowly, during their trips, Jack and Stiles became closer. Shared things they never told anyone, cried because they knew they were safe. They laughed because they knew that they could be happy, even if they lost so much to grief and death. 

 

 

 

Four years after traveling, they settled down in Beacon Hills once again. But this time, Stiles has a Fiancée named Jack Napier. He was a wonderful man, with no more tattoos and a gorgeous smile, even if his teeth were silver. 

 

And Jack had a lovely finacée named Stiles Stilinski, who had a diamond mind. Even if he had wings and ADHD, he was still the epitome of perfection to Jack. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this was short, but this is meant to be a summary about what happened in the end. It’s an epilogue, if you decide to interpret this that way. 
> 
> That’s for all your support!


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